


The Blood of Tiber Septim

by thingsishouldntbedoing - discontinued (arminoni)



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Thor (2011)
Genre: I hate Ao3. Thorki-smut sucks., M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arminoni/pseuds/thingsishouldntbedoing%20-%20discontinued
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Centuries later Tiber Septim’s line is broken. Kings and jarls battle for the throne of Skyrim; now under the control of the High Elf rule of the Thalmor Empire after a long and grueling war. However in recent years a rebellion has risen, the Stormcloaks of Windhelm now attempt to take the throne of Skyrim. </p><p>With the death of the most recent king, killed in his own throne room by Ulfric Stormcloak, the throne sits empty with none to claim it. </p><p>But one still yet lives who may claim the rightful throne of Tiber Septim.</p><p>And one who will battle the World Eater for the fates of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blood of Tiber Septim

Dragonborn. Dovakiin. Those words meant nothing these days. They were just words meant to inspire and give hope to children who dreamt of fighting the long deceased dragons of Skyrim. Centuries before, when Tiber Septim led the Nords into Skyrim, dragons ruled the land and murdered at will. Tiber, a dragon slayer born of the dragon blood, supposedly used the language of the dragons against them, absorbing their souls upon their death and killing them permanently. Upon the final defeat of the dragon known as Alduin the World Eater, dragons ceased to exist and the dragonborn faded into mystery. 

Centuries later Tiber Septim’s line is broken. Kings and jarls battle for the throne of Skyrim; now under the control of the High Elf rule of the Thalmor Empire after a long and grueling war. However in recent years a rebellion has risen, the Stormcloaks of Windhelm now attempt to take the throne of Skyrim. 

With the death of the most recent king, killed in his own throne room by Ulfric Stormcloak, the throne sits empty with none to claim it. 

One still yet lives who may claim the rightful throne of Tiber Septim.

And one who will battle the World Eater for the fates of the world.

\--

He ran as quickly as his feet would take him, throwing flames from his palms as a wolf jumped out from the bushes. He glanced up to see a dark shadow glide over him and he summoned a ward, diving into the bushes to hide himself as the dragon circled. At least he thought it was a dragon. It was a dragon right? In all his years of studying magic he had never seen one before. His emerald eyes were wary as the monster roared angrily and cut through the skies. Flames licked his hand harmlessly as he kept his spells at the ready, keeping an eye on the monster as it vanished into the mountains. 

He had barely escaped, and knew that many others had not escaped at all. He looked over his shoulder as he dusted himself off, no longer seeing the burning city behind him as he walked onto the path. He wondered how long it would take before word of Helgen’s destruction spread through the holds. Not long, he was sure.

He hadn’t been home to Skyrim in years, but it didn’t seem too unfamiliar as he followed the path. Where had that oaf told him to go? He had left him behind in the cave with a bear, caring very little about his existence once he had been shown the way through the underground exit.

Oh that was right. _Riverwood_. He sighed as he walked off. He would pick up supplies there and then begin his journey through Skyrim.

\--

He sat in the far corner of Dragonsreach, azure eyes thoughtful as he listened to the Jarl argue with his advisor Avenicci and Irileth, his private guard. He had come in from The Reach with news for the Jarl but had been dismissed for the moment. He flinched as a healer dabbed his wounds with salve. He had fought his way through the Forsworn, never his favorite situation.

“Avenicci I will _not_ be forced to-” The massive doors to the great hall opened and a tall mage swept up the beautiful stone floors. 

“Halt! Who dares approach the Jarl?” Irileth met him between the banquet tables. 

“My name is Loki, I have news from Helgen.”

“Helgen!” Avenicci gasped and Irileth stood aside, allowing the man to pass. The blonde in the corner leaned forward with interest, the wrapped leather portion of his hair falling over his shoulder.

“You have word of the dragons?” Balgruuf leaned forward in his throne. “What happened? What were you doing in Helgen?”

“I was being put to death for a crime I did not commit.” Loki replied. “Ulfric Stormcloak was about to be executed when a dragon attacked.” 

“Did Ulfric escape?” Balgruuf asked.

“I am not sure.” Loki shook his head. “I just ran to Riverwood.”

“Riverwood is unprotected.” Irileth informed the Jarl.

“Move a squadron down I will-” Loki tuned them out as he felt a set of eyes on him, turning his head to look for them. He let his tongue wet his lips curiously as he found them, the sapphire orbs that were looking right through him. The man was muscular and broad, dressed in leather breeches and bandages at the moment. His muscles rippled as he sat up, letting his shoulders straighten under Loki’s gaze. His steel-cuffed boots were handsome and well kept, but that was not what Loki was looking at. He was looking at the hammer between his feet. In all his years he had never thought he’d see this object, though he suspected it might be a fake.

Mjolnir, the hammer of the gods, was heavy upon the stone floor and heavy upon Loki’s mind as he wondered. The symbol on the side was more than enough proof for the mage to decide he at least needed to look at it. Mjolnir was supposedly distinct from any other war hammer, with squared sides and a short handle, the pommel should have been nearly the length of its user and yet it was barely the length of the man’s forearm. It was a fabled object, the likes of which had not been seen since the days of Ysgramor, and yet here it was between the feet of this Nord thug.

Thor smirked, almost reading the man’s mind. He already knew what the mage was thinking.

“Loki.” He heard his name and looked away from the man and his hammer. “Come I have a job that may suit someone with your… particular talents.” The Jarl told him and Loki nodded, letting the Jarl lead him off. He glanced over once more to see those blue eyes still watching him. They made him nervous.

Farengar Secret-Fire was barely Loki’s favorite person. In fact he was Loki’s least favorite person in all of Skyrim. Pompous and arrogant with a flair for idiocy the practiced Breton was far more literate in magic than this Nord _illusionist_. He was a magician; disrespected by those of the Mages among the College of Winterhold… not that Loki enjoyed their company either. 

This man was dry and condescending, however Loki bit back any threats to him because the Jarl was standing nearby. He couldn’t make a complete ass of himself with the offer to fund him on the table. He agreed blithely to whatever the man was going on about, wishing his obnoxious voice would simply stop. “You can do it then?” The Jarl asked. “You can bring me the dragonstone?”

“Of course.” Loki shrugged. “I’ll be back before morning.”

“Mind if I tag along?” A deep voice asked from the doorway. Loki whipped around, it sounded as if thunder itself had entered the room. “I’ve been meaning to look into Bleak Falls Barrow.”

“Oh yes! Loki, this is Thor.” The Jarl introduced. “He will certainly be useful on your trip.” 

“I do not need an escort.” Loki said a little bitterly. “I can take care of myself.”

“Certainly it would be helpful.” The Jarl looked concerned.

“Yes, it is always good to travel in pairs.” Thor’s good-natured smile made Loki want to punch him. He was in heavy steel armor with a unique design upon the breastplate now, dressed from his earlier state. In fact, upon second glance Loki decided it was not steel at all but some other metal he would also need to inspect later. The longer he was in the same room as this man the more questions that popped into his mind.

“Fine, if the Jarl wishes.” Loki bowed his head stiffly. “Come, then.” He walked out, gesturing an arm. Thor glanced at the Jarl, earning an appreciative nod. 

“You do not appreciate me, Breton?” Thor asked as he followed. 

“My name is Loki, you would do well to remember that.” The sorcerer told him sharply. “I am only allowing you to come along per the Jarl’s request.” He glanced down at the hammer, strung from a hook on his belt. 

“Surely.” Thor noticed his gaze and Loki quickly looked away. They mounted horses and found their way quickly through the mountains, crossing the White river to follow the path up towards the barrow. Leaving their horses at the bottom they climbed up into the snow. Thor watched Loki’s hand light as he cast a spell on the area. With three apparent bandits nearby Thor gripped Mjolnir’s handle, prepared to fight. “Let me handle this.”

“Oh please.” Loki rolled his eyes and frost curled around his fingers. Casting a second spell with his right hand he threw the ice spike with deadly accuracy. The others finally noticed them and Loki hit them both with the fireball he had been building, surprised when one of them had cast a ward. Before he could move they were struck down with a massive bolt of lightening that burnt the air. He looked over his shoulder to see that Thor’s left hand crackled with electricity before it was put down. He had been wondering why the man wore a gloveless gauntlet on that hand and he now had an answer. “You’re a mage?”

“Rudimentary at best.” Thor replied. “I am a better warrior.” He boasted, shifting his weight. “Let us continue.” He gestured around the mountain peak.

Loki nodded, then glanced at the hammer again. Perhaps it really was the fabled Mjolnir. He would just have to wait and see. He summoned a ward as an arrow flew at them, surprised when his companion moved quickly to silence the target. Thor moved more quickly than he had ever seen a man move before, deflecting an arrow with his hammer as Loki brought flames into both his hands to bring down another enemy. He whipped around quickly when he sensed someone coming closer and his green eyes flashed as ice spikes formed on his fist, running out the back of his attacker. 

Loki watched the smelly man fall with distaste, looking up to see a mildly amused Thor. “What are you looking at?”

“I was wondering what would happen if you were attacked close range, mage.” He mused as Loki walked over to him. 

“You are not as bad a warrior as I had thought you were going to be.” Loki sniffed. “Just make sure you stay out of my way.” He led him into the barrow. He summoned frost into both his hands again as he saw the two bandits speaking just on the other side of the main hall and Thor watched as it built, stretching between his skilled fingers like threads, before the spell launched and coated the entire room in ice, freezing the two on the other side. 

“Handy.” Thor looked over at him.

“Yes, but it is a limited use spell.” He examined the frostbite forming on his fingers, healing them with a soft golden glow.

“Mmmm…” Thor merely smiled as he followed the dark haired Breton. It seemed it was smoother going then, weaving through the burial corridors. They did run into a single highwayman, hidden behind a series of tree roots, but a furious fireball sent him tumbling down the stairs into the puzzle room. Loki glanced around and in an instant he was using his magic to spin a series of stone tablets. “A puzzle room.” Thor murmured, walking over to the lever.

“Don’t touch that.” Loki commanded as he found the last symbol. Snake, snake, fish. “Try now.” He cast a ward around his companion… just in case he was wrong. 

“You know mage, you concern me.” Thor frowned at him, then took a breath and pulled the lever back with all his strength. It came with the groan of rusted metal and the barred gates opened for them. He glanced over at Loki, whose green eyes were fixed on the cobwebs beyond.

“So what if I did, at least nothing happened to you.” Loki smirked as he walked past.

“Tell me, did the Imperials capture you because you licked their egos with your poison tongue?” Thor cocked an eyebrow.

“Witty.” The other man rolled his eyes. “They tried to kill me because I was crossing over from Cyrodiil.” 

“Ah, so you were caught up in the Stormcloak rebellion then?” Thor smirked. “They will take anyone they think is _ruining_ the Empire’s rule.”

“And where do you stand?” Loki asked, but Thor never had a chance to answer as they heard someone screaming.

“Somebody? ANYBODY? Help me!” Arvel cried as they cut their way through the webbings. The entire room was grotesque, covered in thick and slimy strands of frostbite spider web. Decimated carcasses lay scattered on the ground of those unfortunate enough to make it to this spider’s lair. Loki glanced around. Where was this thing?

With a grunt something heavy flew past Loki, Mjolnir made contact with something _massive_ above them and a great spider dropped to the ground. Loki summoned flames into one hand as Mjolnir returned to its master, not stilling as he whipped around to slam the hammer onto the spider’s head before it lunged to sink its fangs into his arm. 

Loki summoned a second hand and whipped his magic up quickly to hit the spider with a fireball that sent it into the wall. It died with a screech as Thor backed up to stay out of the way of the fire. 

“Hey! You killed it!” Arvel seemed excited. The dark elf wriggled. “Now cut me down!”

“What are you down here for?” Loki asked instead. “What is it that you are after?”

"Riches!” He laughed nervously. “Riches are here gents! I have the key to the vaults and if you cut me down I’ll share it with you.” Loki looked bored.

“How about I just kill you?” Loki asked.

“Oh come on.” Thor sighed and pulled out a knife, starting to hack away at the thick bands.

“Thanks.” Arvel sighed, dropping to his knees. 

“Now hand it over.” Thor told him, then snatched for him when he turned to run.

“What idiots!” Arvel laughed and disappeared through the room. 

“Look what you did.” Loki sighed and Thor smiled apologetically as they took off after him. They were met with a scream and loud clangs of swords and shields. “Draugrs!” He summoned flames into both his hands as they walked in a catacomb. All along the walls were rows and rows of draugr beds, a number of them were alive, killing the man they had just freed. 

Thor summoned lightening into his fist and slammed it into the closest beast before hitting the next with Mjolnir. The thunder of his hits woke the others down the hall and before they knew it they were back to back, fending off the horde of draugrs they had accidentally awoken. “This isn’t worth it!” Loki said, barely managing to keep his ward up around them. He heard Thor groan, taking a hit. Loki had seen the place where the spider had bitten Thor, the open wound that was now festering on his casting arm but there was not enough time or magic for Loki to heal him at this moment. 

An entirely new form of draugr found them, throwing frost spells with all its might and Loki’s grin grew malicious. “Hang on!” He told Thor, letting the ward fall. He met the draugr’s power with his own, absorbing its spell to fortify his own magic. The warrior kept the other draugrs from attacking, never letting Mjolnir rest. He didn’t even have to look as ice crackled between Loki’s hands. 

Suddenly everything was silent. All the groaning and creaking from the draugrs had vanished, replaced by glittering, slippery ice. Thor panted, feeling the effects of the poison as he dropped to a knee. “Careful.” Loki told him, holding his hand over his arm to heal the wound and draw the poison out.

Thor hissed, but submitted to the feeling as he watched the wound heal. “Enough.” He barked, rising as ice chimed around them, still climbing up the walls. His breath rose in front of his face as if he were in the north, frozen by the sheer cold of the ice spell. “Let’s go.” He walked off. It was Loki’s turn to be bemused; this man obviously disliked being backed into a corner.

They faced a number of other tricks, but none as harrowing as the first. A few other draugr, traps that Loki easily dismantled, and then there was the empty hallway that they walked through cautiously. Thor walked up to the door and examined it. “The claw.”

“Yes, that is what I was thinking.” Loki pulled it from his bag. They had taken the golden object off Arvel’s body. A golden dragon’s claw inscribed with three animals.

“They match.” Thor pointed out. 

“Turn them.” Loki commanded and the blonde responded with a bit of a sigh, tired of being bossed around. 

“Fine.” He grumbled and heaved the discs in a circle until the locks clicked in their chambers. The passage beyond was less of a passage and more of a cavern with soft whispers echoing on the walls. Thor furrowed his brows as they walked across a natural bridge. He could hear words, faint on his ears, and he had a feeling the man next to him could hear them as well.

Loki narrowed his green eyes as they walked closer to the great arched wall. He saw strange symbols carved into the stone, words it would seem. He could hear chanting, words in a language he couldn’t understand. “What is this?” He drew closer.

“Word wall.” Thor had heard of them before, whispers from his grandmother. He heard promises that one day he would see one, learn their secrets, and here he was before one.

He watched with fascination as lines of power threaded towards his companion and Loki gasped. 

“What… is this power?” Loki was stunned as a word came to his lips. “Fus.” He didn’t know what it meant, but the word felt powerful on his tongue. He jumped when a rock cracked behind them. 

“ _QO_!” Thor’s voice boomed loud in the cavern, so loud it was like thunder. A dragon shout.

 _Thunder_. Loki was convinced now; this man was most certainly the wielder of the true Mjolnir. Lightening struck the draugr lord. It wasn’t enough but it gave them time to arm themselves. He whipped ice spikes out as Thor met the draugr arm for arm with his hammer and quickly, much more quickly than Loki had thought, they were finished and fishing out the tablet they were sent after.

“Your hammer.” Loki said as they wound their way out through a back door. 

“Yes?” Thor asked, blue eyes glinting.

“Its name is Mjolnir, isn’t it?” The dark haired man said as they found themselves on a cliff overlooking the White River that lead into Whiterun. 

“Yes.” He confirmed.

“The Hammer of Kings.” Loki looked over at him. “The Hammer of Tiber Septim, the first emperor of Skyrim.” When he received a nod he sighed heavily. “You are…”

“His blood.” Thor said softly. “Dragon blood.”

“What happened in there?” Loki inquired, wiping sweat from his brow.

“I believe that… we will find out soon enough.” He pointed. Just beyond the trees, over beyond Whiterun… a black figure was breathing fire on a watchtower to the west.


End file.
